


the morning star

by tianhuo



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 20:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10315988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tianhuo/pseuds/tianhuo
Summary: “But I know you’re going away-- for a while, I mean,” Jensen stutters, “so that’s why, starting today… I wanted to wake up early and have more time to spend with you.”“As opposed to waking up late, and streaming until the sun comes up?” You smirk at him.“Fuck you, Sneaky."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Super old thing that I wrote a literal year ago. Originally posted on c9sneaksen.tumblr.com! If you want a lot of Sneaksen content on your dash, you should go check them out. :0

Light gently seeps in through the shutters of your bedroom, casting bright, rectangular glares of sun upon your face. You stay in that position for a while, before you decide it’s too warm for your liking, and flip over and shove your face into your pillow.

 

An involuntary groan escapes your lips. You went to bed at around 4 AM-- and you’re not too sure what time it is now, but you do know that it is far too early for you to be awake right now. You bury your face deeper into your pile of pillows, and sink back into sleep.

 

Although, you do feel like you are forgetting to do something…

 

It takes you five minutes to rouse yourself and wake yourself up. That’s right-- Jensen told you to wake him up early today! You’re not really sure why. Plus, you went to bed at the same time. Why’s it have to be you?

 

_ It’s whatever,  _ you think to yourself, checking your phone. It’s 10 AM. Is now a good time to wake him up? Should you let him sleep another hour? How early is “early”? Before afternoon? It wasn’t farfetched for a pro-gamer to sleep far into the afternoon. 

 

You step into that bathroom and splash your face with warm water. At the very least, you’d get to see your Jensen.

 

_ My Jensen,  _ you think to yourself, grinning giddily in the mirror. It’s ridiculous, and even though nobody is around, or likely awake (the only people who really were up in the morning were usually Jack, Danan, and Reapered), you find yourself awfully bashful and embarrassed about how easily your feelings about him show.

 

But it’s whatever. Sometimes, you think the others might be jealous of you two. You would be jealous of anybody who got to see Jensen’s beautiful smile, or hear his horrific yet fitting laughter. 

 

You knock on his door, kind of subtly, because you’re not sure how to do this. No response. You knock a little louder, more briskly. Everyone should be fast asleep; it’s not like you’ll wake them up. 

 

“Jensen,” you hiss through his door, “Jensen. Wake up.” You knock obnoxiously loud, even for you, the tiltmaster.

 

You hear a muffled groan. Then a long, drawn-out, totally obnoxious groan. You can’t stop yourself from laughing. You know that he does these things just for you. It’s one of the greatest feelings in the world, that someone does something ridiculous just to get a laugh, or a smile, or both, out of you.

 

Eventually, you hear the light patter of socks on the ground. The door opens.

 

Jensen yawns the sleep out of his voice. “What the  _ fuck  _ do you want, Sneaky?”

 

“Wow, okay. My bad, bro,” you raise your hands up in the air, just below your shoulders, “you told me to wake you up early today.” 

 

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, then looks at you, seemingly for the first time. He goes starry-eyed, and you see red slowly travel up his face, like a slow burning forest fire. “What time is it?”

 

“Like, 10.”

 

“In the morning?”

 

“No, at night. Yes, in the morning, you dumbass. Does it look dark outside?”

 

Suddenly, Jensen grabs your wrists, and yanks you inside of his room. He kicks the door closed. 

 

“Yensen--? Mm--!” He cuts you off with a strong, passionate kiss on the lips. It only takes you a nanosecond to close your own eyes, and kiss back. You’ve been awake longer than him, but, somehow, he overpowers you-- the kiss is far from one-sided, but it’s quickly made clear who is the dominant one of that one. 

 

Your hands find his chest, and your fingers curl around the neck of his shirt and pull him in closer. Your fingernails are a little long-- they dig into his shirt easily. He reciprocates this without hesitation, wrapping his long, gangly arms around your tiny, yet slightly fuller waist, and steps in much closer to you. You can feel his body against yours. 

 

Sparks go off in your chest-- like a fire springing to life in your heart, the heat rises to your face, even after the two of you pull away from each other.

 

“I-- wow,” is all you can manage out. Jensen takes one of your hands and presses it to the side of his face.

 

“The holidays are coming around. You’re going back to Florida, right?”

 

You’re a bit stunned by this (and seeing stars, still), so all you do is nod. You didn’t need to explain why-- family was important. Your mom and your sisters wanted to see you again, especially for the holidays. 

 

“Are you going back to Denmark? For the holidays?”

 

Jensen looks very far away for a second. “I don’t know yet.”

 

You nod. Anybody else would have hopped on his dick and told him to figure it out, get his tickets early-- but you weren’t one to nag. That’s not what this relationship was about, so you don’t do that. 

 

“But I know you’re going away-- for a while, I mean,” Jensen stutters, “so that’s why, starting today… I wanted to wake up early and have more time to spend with you.”

 

“As opposed to waking up late, and streaming until the sun comes up?” You smirk at him.

 

“Fuck you, Sneaky,” he smiles, and laughs-- a cross between the two, at least. You loved it when he did that. It was one of your favorite things about him. 

 

The two of you both know you’re not serious. Your heart practically flurries over that he wants to spend more time with you-- or cram more time in with you, basically, before the holidays. 

 

It’s not going to stop the two of you from missing each other. Your heart always suffers a bit, it must, when the two of you are separated from each other for long. Not even being a room apart was good enough for the two of you-- you’d chat in the League client all the time. Text each other even more often. Sometimes, that was the only way you could speak to him; physically talking to him always made you laugh a little too much. And it was always hard to stop those giddy smiles of yours, and, well-- there was only so many times that you could try and play off covering your mouth many times. And Jensen would do that weird thing, where he rubbed one side of his face, briefly-- look around on his monitors, or elsewhere, check the time. It was easy for everyone to see that the two of you were crazy about each other.

 

But, if you’re going to miss him, then you may as well have lots of memories to be missing him over, right?

 

The two of you end up on Jensen’s bed, watching some shitty movie on his laptop.  _ Employee of The Month,  _ it’s called. It’s about as good as it sounds. But it’s one of those movies that’s so bad, it does a full-circle revolution, and becomes stupidly good again. Like you and Jensen.

 

You look down at the position you two are in. You’re sitting in between his legs, as he wraps his long, skinny arms around you. C9 Fiddlesticks looked bony and skinny, but he was a lot more comfortable to be tangled up in than he looked. 

 

You lean back on his shoulder and look up at him, so sure you are looking like a fool in love-- because you are-- dreamy and starry-eyed, face brushed with light crimson. Soft and gentle-- it’s not a look you brandish often.

 

He looks down, and his eyes catch yours-- and, to your surprise, he doesn’t quickly look away. His eyes widen, and gloss over with nothing but head-over-heels love. He pecks you on the lips. If you didn’t know any better, he looks practically dizzy with endearment. 

 

“Jensen?” 

 

“Mhm?”

 

“I love you.” 

 

He looks straight into your eyes.

 

“Same.” This catches you off-guard, and you jokingly throw a punch at his other shoulder. He fake-gasps. Then the two of you are laughing.

 

He pulls you in close and tight for a kiss-- not a peck, a real one.

 

“I love you too.”


End file.
